ATF: To A Reason
by foggynite
Summary: ATF AU. A bust goes comically wrong for Ez and Vin. Slashy vibes Don't like, don't read.


Title: To a Reason   
By foggynite   
Fandom: Magnificent 7 ATF AU   
Pairing: Vin, Ezra Preslash   
Rating: PG-13 for langauge and Armani abuse  
Summary: Sewers and tofu and showers. Oh my.   
Note: Written, rather belatedly, for Peja's Sept 5 challenge. Yeah, I suck at deadlines. Title taken from a Rimbaud _Illuminations_ of the same title. Yeah, I suck at titles, too.

"I won't let anything eat ya, Ez. Promise. So c'mon already." Vin grinned mischievously up at the undercover agent from the middle of knee- deep sludge. Ezra just stared blankly at him, holding a white handkerchief delicately over the lower half of his face.  
  
"You truly expect me to place my appendages in that—that feculence?" He gestured with the hand holding his gun and Vin dodged.  
  
"It's either that or go tell them ugly fellers we were joking about the whole 'fed' thing...."  
  
"To perambulate in that filth?"  
  
"Don't rightly know what you just said, but ain't that them I hear hollerin'?"  
  
"To soil my Armani with the ordure and the sewage and the dregs of unknown origin--"  
  
A sharp tug upon the sleeve of said Armani suit, and Ezra gaped incredulously at the sharp shooter as slime seeped into his two hundred dollar shoes. Vin smiled again, hoping Ezra'd wait until they were near an ambulance-accessible highway to shoot him, then turned tail and started slogging through the duct towards the back-up rendezvous point. After a moment's hesitation, where Vin was sure the other man was debating whether to pull the trigger, Ezra joined his quiet splashing and the two moved in silence.  
  
Vin almost felt bad, but they really didn't have a choice about how to get where they were going. Meeting down at the warehouses was bad enough, but their case files hadn't been nearly as prepped as they should have been. One wrong word about tofu and their covers were blown.  
  
"Stupid tree-hugging, bleeding-heart terrorist groups... This is the last time I agree to help Team 3..." Ezra grumbled behind him. He was going to be in a great mood by the time they met their back-up. If their back-up was even there.  
  
"Hell, Ez, if they do catch us, I reckon you can just keep bitchin' till they shoot themselves in the head."  
  
"Not with our luck tonight..."  
  
There was a plastic crate floating in the brackish water. Vin nudged it out of the way and hoped they wouldn't find any dead bodies in the slime. He had enough paperwork to deal with as it was.  
  
"I'm sure if Mr. Larabee knew the neglected position that team left us in, he would never have approved the loan."  
  
"Personally," Vin paused to flash his pen light down a side drain, "I think Chris just wanted us out of the office."  
  
Ezra sneezed into his handkerchief and glared when Vin turned the light on him. "If someone hadn't glued his office supplies to his desk, I'm sure he would have met the request with the proper derision."  
  
"Hey! It took me my entire lunch break to do that. You think he woulda at least appreciated the dedication..."  
  
"Why he insisted on punishing me as well, I'll never know. I swear he has it in for me."  
  
"That would be cuz you made fun of his hat."  
  
"I wasn't 'making fun' of it, per se. But it did bear an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Dunne's, and I merely wished to ascertain if they had purchased them from the same retailer."  
  
"You made fun of his hat."  
  
"Well, yes. It was a silly looking thing anyway, and everyone agreed."  
  
"Yeah, but we weren't stupid enough to tell him that."  
  
"Someone had to before we were forced to go out in public with him."  
  
Finally finding the right turn, Vin motioned for Ezra to ascend into the next level of storm drains first. The Southerner was beginning to look a little wild-eyed behind his handkerchief, and Vin wanted the gun in front of him just in case Ez decided his shoes were worth twenty to life.  
  
"Are you sure you know where we're going?"  
  
"Yeah, I do." Which he had said at least fifty times before they stepped foot in the sewers.  
  
"They won't even find our corpses," Ezra mumbled to himself. "Just a gathering of corpulent rodents staring up with beady eyes and Armani between their teeth...."  
  
"Hell, Ez, I don't think there's enough to feed a rat between the two of us. Although you have been getting soft around the middle..." Vin bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for the explosion.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Ezra's cultured and refined voice became an indignant squawk.  
  
"Just been laying into that fancy coffee more often, I reckon. But don't worry none, yer ass ain't as big as Buck's yet..."  
  
He kept moving forward as Ezra stopped to splutter at him. The drains were getting shorter and shorter, and would narrow to a crawl point, if he remembered correctly. Once they got through that area, though, they were right below their back-up.  
  
"I'll have you know, Mister Tanner, that I am quite serious about retaining my figure—"  
  
"Joking, Ez. Jo-king. Sheesh."  
  
The offended silence continued for another hundred feet. They came to the juncture where the top of the pipe angled down to leave only a three-foot clearance. Vin squinted as he stood in front of it, wondering if maybe they could just crouch low to get through. Sweat was breaking out along his neck and back. When they had gone over the plans, the damn thing hadn't looked this cramped...  
  
"We're gonna have to go through here," he muttered, squatting as best he could in the cold sewage to try to see if the pipe opened back up fairly soon. All that greeted him was darkness in the form of more water. The pipe had a slow ascent to it. Wonderful.  
  
He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans, momentarily pointing his flashlight down. The lack of light made everything seem a little smaller in his mind. He refused to panic.  
  
Once he calmed himself enough to realize Ezra hadn't responded, he looked warily behind him. The thunderous expression on Ezra's face did not bode well for his continued good health and he quickly faced forward again, needing a plan.  
  
"So," Ezra finally drawled, dangerously quiet against the backdrop of running water. "Not only do we have to walk through this—this muck, but we're expected to crawl through it as well?"  
  
"Looks like." Vin gave his most charming smile and hoped someone would hear the gun shots.  
  
"I see."  
  
Ezra came to stand beside him and also crouched down, trying to see up the pipe. When he stood, Vin smiled nervously at him again.  
  
"Not so bad, right?" He tamped down on the urge to hurl. Maybe something of it showed on his face, because Ezra's pissy expression softened to one of wry disdain.  
  
"If you don't think my ass is too big to fit..."  
  
"Aw, hell, Ez. " Vin stole a glance at the con man's deliberately blanked face and sighed. They could stand there all night if Ezra was in a snit. "Look, yer ass is fine, all right? It's in great shape. It's wonderful. I have no clue what I was talking about. It in no way resembles Buck's. Can we crawl in the raw sewage now?"  
  
An eyebrow twitched up, the only reaction. "So you think my derriere is 'wonderful'?"  
  
That hit a little too close to the truth and Vin wanted to beat himself in the head with his mini-mag light. Instead, he blushed in the dim light and focused intently on the drainage pipe. "We only have about two hundred feet left to go, then we take the nearest ladder up to street level."  
  
"Hm."  
  
Vin ducked low and started inching forward before Ezra could comment any further. It wasn't as if they weren't used to teasing each other. He was just not-freaking over the small space.  
  
The brackish water rose to their knees, but they managed to keep the rest of themselves out of it. Every once in a while, Vin would glimpse back to track Ezra's glaring white handkerchief. Where Vin had given in and clamped his pen light between his teeth so he had a hand free to pull himself along the wall, Ezra refused to ditch his kerchief or his gun, so the con man was edging precariously up the pipe. The sucking, splashing noises their shoes made were covered by the lightly running water. Just their luck it had rained a few days before.  
  
"Are you sure—"  
  
"Yeah, Ez."  
  
The passage continued upwards. He could almost see a light ahead.  
  
"This seems—"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
His hand squished in something squishy-like and he gritted his teeth. He wasn't one to hold grudges, not like Ezra, but he had to admit—Chris owed them for this one. Case work this shoddy was just ridiculous. Who the hell had the backup rendezvous through the sewers?  
  
"Is that—"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
A steady stream of cold air was being fed into the sewers. Unfortunately, they were down wind. But it did mean that the junction they were looking for was near. Then the tunnel leveled and Vin could stand up again.  
  
"We're here."  
  
"Oh thank God."  
  
There was a utility ladder made out of steel rungs embedded in the walls, and Vin seized the nearest one gratefully. He was not claustrophobic, no matter what the department shrink said. He just wasn't overly fond of being stuck in tight places with armed men following him. Perfectly reasonable.  
  
He almost took Nathan out with the manhole cover in his rush to get out of the damn sewers.  
  
"Yeah, Chris, we got 'em..." The dark-skinned agent was saying into his cell phone. Vin looked around, catching his breath, and realized there were a lot more agents than just Team 3's back-up waiting for them.  
  
"I assure you, Mr. Jackson, we're fine. Undoubtedly inhaling sewer vapors is adverse to one's health, but I'm certain we were not immersed in the dregs long enough to warrant such attention— "Ezra was trying to clean the worst off his legs and arms with his handkerchief, grimacing and waving Nathan away.  
  
"What're ya'll doing here, Nate?" Vin finally interrupted Ezra's tirade.  
  
Nathan gave him a 'don't be stupid' look and said, "Heard it over the wire. Chris had JD keep an ear on things just in case."  
  
"Yeah," Buck exclaimed as he appeared with towels. "We don't leave our own out here with the rookies..."  
  
"They're not rookies," Ezra muttered as he wiped at his legs with a grimace. "They're damn imbeciles."  
  
"True," Nathan smiled. "But they're the ones who have to comb the sewers for your targets. We're just here to pick you boys up. Those guys," He motioned over his shoulder, "Get to stake this street out."  
  
The glowering members of Team Three had heard every word they said, and Vin wondered what Travis would say about interdepartmental relations after this one. Not that they hadn't been getting the "Play nice with others" speech since the team was formed... Or maybe before that. Hell, none of them really played well with others...  
  
"Vin?" Ezra's voice was at his elbow.  
  
"Yeah?" He asked wearily, looking around to realize that Nathan and Buck were spreading plastic sheets in Nathan's Suburban. "They plannin' to shoot us?"  
  
Ezra's voice was amused, and Vin couldn't help returning the sly smile. "No, my dear sir. They are planning to drop us off at my humble abode so that we may rid ourselves of this stench before heading into the office."  
  
Vin frowned. "But I ain't got no clothes at your place."  
  
In the slight pause after that statement, he realized what it could sound like and blushed. Ezra focused his attention on their teammates and cleared his throat.  
  
"I presented that argument as well. However, my house is closer than your apartment and Mr. Jackson refuses to drive us any farther than necessary while we are in our current state." The conman paused, then offered hesitantly. "I'm sure I can lend you the necessary garments."  
  
With a sigh and a nod, Vin followed him over to Nathan's SUV. Nathan hovered behind them as they climbed into the back seat, which was hermetically sealed in plastic. Vin flicked Buck off as he tried to scoot across the seat in damp pants that were beginning to stiffen besides the smell, so yeah, maybe heading to Ezra's first wasn't such a bad idea.  
  
"Just try not to touch anything, huh?" Was all Nathan said over Buck's snickering as he shut the door behind them.  
  
"Coo-eee, boys, you smell like JD's old gym socks!" Buck exclaimed once he climbed into the passenger seat, right on time. Ezra rolled his eyes.  
  
"Please, Mr. Wilmington, surely you exaggerate." But he did roll the window down as far as possible and Vin quickly followed his example.  
  
"True. JD's socks are part of the reason we don't have a roach problem." Buck winked back at them. "24/7 fumigation from floor level."  
  
"Which is why your cesspit of an apartment isn't capable of sustaining healthy human life," Nathan interjected dryly. Ezra granted him that with a nod in the rearview mirror, as the other man had merely beaten him to the punch.  
  
Vin listened to the bickering with his eyes half-closed. The adrenaline was wearing off and his body was remembering the fact that he had just been in an enclosed space for almost an hour. All he wanted was to get to a shower and get clean. Ezra must have been crawling out of his skin at that point. Of course, thinking of the undercover specialist's skin was a bad idea, especially when he was headed over to Ezra's house and would soon be using the man's shower.  
  
Nathan and Buck continued arguing about the CDC's sanitation problems, but Ez was oddly quiet. Sighing, Vin slumped down farther in the seat, wincing at the creak of plastic, and cast Ezra a furtive glance. Jade green eyes blinked back at him, surprised at being caught, and Ez quickly returned to studying the darkening sky outside his window. A slight flush rose on his cheeks, barely noticeable if Vin hadn't spent a helluva lot of time watching him in the past year or so.  
  
Turning back to lean his head against his own window frame, he regarded the small grin on his reflection in Buck's rearview mirror. He closed his eyes and lightly dozed until they reached Ezra's townhouse.  
  
"Chris'll be here in an hour to pick you up," Nathan announced as the SUV came to a halt. Vin played possum a bit longer, not wanting to move.  
  
"I don't possibly see how—"Ezra started to say, but Buck cut him off.  
  
"He's thinking you two might get up to some trouble unescorted, is all. Sides, you know Chris; man won't relax until he's checked his wayward lambs over himself..."  
  
Nathan joined Buck's laughter, but Vin felt a gentle touch to his shoulder. He blinked up at Ezra's wry expression.  
  
"I'm not carrying you in, Mr. Tanner. I'm afraid you'll have to make do under your own locomotion."  
  
He smiled back and went to rub his face, but his grimy hands stopped him. "I think I'll manage, Ez."  
  
"Then get a move on," Nathan said in a mock-growl. "Rain's gonna skin me alive if I don't Febreeze the entire interior before I get home."  
  
"Lord knows we don't want to call down her wrath," Ezra said sarcastically. Once upon a time, Nathan would have taken offense, but the medic just laughed and waved them out.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Well you don't live with her."  
  
They opened the doors with the clean edges of their towels and walked up the short driveway. Nathan waited until they were up on the porch before starting to back out.  
  
"Don't forget to soak in tomato juice 'fore yer meeting, Junior!" Buck called out the window at them. Vin just gave him a one-fingered salute as they heard Nathan comment, "That's for skunk musk, Buck."  
  
Ezra had the door open by the time he turned around, and he followed the other man in, shoes squelching. He nearly ran into Ezra when the undercover specialist stopped abruptly, frowning down at his hardwood floors.  
  
"Kitchen first, I believe."  
  
Knowing going to the kitchen instead of the bathroom made sense somehow in Ezra's fancy brain, Vin followed without comment. The southerner turned to him once they were in the middle of the linoleum-floored room, and clapped his hands together.  
  
"Right. Shoes off, socks too, and roll up your pant legs. I paid quite a bit of money to have the floors redone in this hovel when I moved in, and damned if we're getting raw sewage all over them."  
  
Vin rolled his eyes, but bent over to comply as Ezra toed off his two- hundred dollar shoes. Brown water dribbled out of one of the dress shoes and Vin coulda sworn that Ezra's face turned as green as his eyes. Then the other agent started swearing a blue streak when he saw the state his ankle holster was in.  
  
"Oh, I am definitely putting in for an agency reimbursement on this one..." He muttered darkly. Vin tried to hide his amused smile and worked on the crusty laces of his boots.  
  
As a mere bodyguard, he had gotten away with pressed jeans, a black t- shirt, and a fancy blazer, but he had drawn the line at his shoes. He sure was sorry to see his trusty boots go on to footwear heaven, but now it was definitely the time for them to depart. His socks were a lost cause, too, and he didn't want to look too closely at them.  
  
He couldn't help thinking of the time JD had gone running through a patch of swampy puddles one case and Nathan had lectured the kid for a good half- hour on all the different types of bacteria, fungus and little varmints one could pick up in stagnant water.  
  
The bottoms of his jeans were so stiff, they could stand up on their own, and he bit back a whimper because he wanted to be clean. Like, right now. Ezra's light trousers had rolled up easily, if a little crunchily, and he was wiping at his feet with a dry dishtowel. Snorting with a mixture of embarrassment and resignation, Vin started undoing the fly of his jeans.  
  
"Um, Mr. Tanner, what—"Ezra's voice was strangled as Vin shucked off his jeans and tossed them in the pile with his boots. For once, Vin got to cock a superior eyebrow at Ezra as the other man blushed and averted his eyes quickly.  
  
"Ain't no way I can roll up those cuffs, and I sure as hell ain't letting them stay on me longer than I have to. You got another towel?"  
  
It didn't turn awkward until Ezra handed him a dry dishtowel and Vin bent over, realizing he was in just his boxer shorts, a t-shirt, and his shoulder holster in the middle of Ezra's kitchen. He wiped his feet off quickly, frowning at his pruny toes.  
  
Ezra cleared his throat twice before he could speak. "I'm afraid I have only the one bathroom, Mr. Tanner, so if you would like to take the first turn, I will dispose of these... garments..."  
  
His stomach flipped over and he nodded, crossing his arms across his chest for lack of pockets to shove them into. But that just drew attention back to his boxers and he quickly moved to drop his arms. Being in the Army and a line of boys' homes before that had gotten him over any self- consciousness about his body quick, but this was different. It wouldn't have even been a problem with any one else on the team. But this was Ezra, who apparently was feeling just as awkward as he was.  
  
"Vin?" Ezra enquired after a moment.  
  
"Sure," he responded belatedly. "That sounds good, if'n you don't mind waiting on me."  
  
That earned him a more relaxed grin. "I don't, as long as you don't use up all the hot water."  
  
With that, Ezra turned and Vin followed him to the stairs in the hallway. There was a half-bath next to the front closet that the guys used when they had poker night at Ezra's, but he didn't think any of them had ever actually been upstairs. It was like this unspoken taboo among them to delve too deeply into Ezra's personal life. They'd tried that when the guy had first joined the team and it had led to a few sticky situations. Since then, they'd all agreed to pretty much let Ezra tell them what he was comfortable offering, and Vin could only think of two instances where he had actually pushed Ezra for information. He was probably the only one on the team besides Josiah that could get away with it. He tried not to read too much into that, because they were friends and coworkers, and it was what he would be content with.  
  
But he couldn't help noticing the way Ezra's calf muscles flexed in front of him as they went up the stairs. Well-muscled legs and thin ankles, and Vin had a vivid image of licking the tops of those long-boned feet. He must have been more tired than he thought, because he never pictured himself as having a foot fetish. Maybe he just had an Ezra fetish, and--  
  
He refused to go there.  
  
So, he followed Ezra up the stairs, trained eye taking in the three doors as they walked down the upstairs hallway. One door was open to a room filled with bookshelves and a desk, while the one on the opposite side had obviously expensive exercise equipment in it. No guest room, then. Not that Ezra entertained many guests. Well, none that Vin knew of.  
  
The last door opened to the master bedroom. Dark mahogany furniture set, king-size bed, everything impeccably neat and organized. Vin stood at the foot of the bed, at a loss as to what he should do, but Ezra merely waved him towards another door as he opened a dresser drawer.  
  
"I'm afraid I need to do laundry, but the towel on the right rack hasn't been used."  
  
Yeah, there was an odd feeling in his stomach, but his feet were getting itchy so he nodded even though Ezra's back was to him, and went through to the master bathroom. He reminded himself that there was no reason to feel weird. This was Ez. There was nothing unusual about one of the guys using the facilities at another one's house. With the trouble their team attracted, stuff like that happened all the time.  
  
But now he was in Ezra's bathroom, where the other agent showered and shaved every morning. Everything about it from the décor to the expensive shampoo was Ezra. And Vin knew without a doubt that none of the other guys had ever been invited here.  
  
He finally shrugged out of his shoulder holster, placing it on the vanity, habitually checking the safety. He wandered over to the shower faucet, which looked like something off the sci-fi channel until he figured out that to switch it to the showerhead he had to pull down on the faucet mouth. Two minutes of playing with that and he missed his creaky plumbing that hadn't been replaced since 1952.  
  
"I'm leaving the clothes over here," Ezra said behind him, raising his voice to be heard over the water. Vin nodded and waited until the other man had left to strip down, stepping tentatively into the huge bathtub.  
  
There were two types of soap and more hair care products than Vin had ever used in his life. He just used the soap closest to him and scrubbed until his skin was red and angry looking. Salon-grade shampoo for every condition a person's hair could be in, and Vin grabbed a fairly innocent looking bottle. Spas probably used less products than Ezra.  
  
He washed up as quickly as possible, remembering Ezra's hot water comment and not entirely sure it was a joke. He tried to hang the towel up as nicely as it had been originally. Putting his own boxers back on, he stared at the khakis and t-shirt with a frown. Ezra had jeans. He'd seen the undercover agent wear them. So why did Vin get stuck with the yuppie clothes?  
  
A polite knock on the door, and Vin quickly started pulling clothes on. He called out, "Just a sec—"  
  
Shrugging back into his holster, he swung the door open and smiled sheepishly at Ezra, who had a mild expression.  
  
"I'm glad to see you didn't drown," was all the other agent said as he sauntered past.  
  
Vin belatedly moved out of the way, and the tension was back again. He cleared his throat. "Tub's certainly deep enough to."  
  
Turning to smirk, Ezra shrugged elegantly. "I do so adore my little indulgences."  
  
That thought brought a blush to Vin's cheeks, and he wished he wasn't the only one feeling the awkwardness. But then, the way Ezra was avoiding his eyes, maybe it wasn't just him.  
  
Backing out of the door, he waved a hand ineffectively. "I'll just go—Y'know—Make coffee or something..."  
  
Ezra nodded. That he didn't protest Vin getting his barbaric hands on the imported coffee machine downstairs was a testament to the tension between them.  
  
Retreating to safer ground, Vin made the coffee easy enough. It was familiar from all the poker nights, but it didn't help his nerves. He didn't like it when things changed in his personal life. It made him cranky and unsettled feeling, and there was nobody he could talk to about this. Ez was a damn good friend and a coworker and, as far as Vin knew, straight. So they'd shared a coupla glances that went beyond friendly. So maybe sometimes he got the impression Ezra was interested in something more. Didn't mean that the chance of maybe something more was worth throwing all the other stuff away for good.  
  
But when Ez smiled at him—his genuine smile that reached his eyes—Vin was tempted. Mighty tempted.  
  
He was sipping from a fancy black mug when Ezra reappeared fully clothed. Vin was still in his bare feet, but he figured Chris would have a spare pair of boots in the Ram. Ezra's shoes were too big to be comfortable, but Chris' were almost his size. And that said a lot about their team's tendency towards trouble if he knew his colleagues' shoe sizes.  
  
"Did you—"  
  
He held out a cup of coffee with four creams and two sugars. Ezra didn't even question if it was prepared properly before sipping. His happy sigh was enough of a thanks for Vin, but Ezra being a gentleman, he had to open his mouth.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Tanner, and not only for the beverage."  
  
"Ain't done nothin' to thank me for, Ez."  
  
"Hm, you're right. Those were expensive shoes."  
  
He glanced over quickly, meeting Ezra's taunting eyes. It was his turn to smirk as he replied, "Sure them gators that died for your footwear needs appreciate that."  
  
"They were calfskin, actually. PETA has me on a hit list."  
  
"Hell, Ez, most people that've met you have you on a hit list."  
  
Ezra slipped into a heavy Southern belle twang. "Indeed, I am popular with the fellows."  
  
Vin let out a bark of laughter, nearly sloshing the remains of his coffee. Ezra leaned against the counter with him and they stood in companionable silence for a moment, tension dissipated.  
  
Shifting his weight, Ezra's next words were spoken seriously. "I am grateful that you were my back-up, Mr. Tanner. I—take solace in the fact that I can trust you."  
  
He almost made a crack about the use of 'Mr. Tanner,' but instead just shrugged, unsure how to respond. Ezra took another sip of coffee and stared at the kitchen floor.  
  
"That's not to say that I don't trust the rest of our team," he continued quietly. "But I find that this is the first time in my law enforcement career I can entirely trust the men I work with. To have close friends as well as trustworthy coworkers... Well, it requires some... adjustment."  
  
Vin studied Ezra with a sideways look. The other agent glanced up, caught his look. This time he didn't look away though.  
  
"I know what you mean," Vin finally whispered. "It's hard to believe it ain't gonna blow up in your face, so you don't trust it completely. Can't depend on it, cuz it might not be there tomorrow."  
  
Ezra nodded, eyes flickering down to Vin's lips and back to his eyes again. That small gesture gave Vin hope. Maybe one day there'd be more for him to hold on to.  
  
Speaking softly, he grinned. "But I know I ain't goin' nowhere, Ez."  
  
Ezra returned his grin with a smile that reached his eyes, a little wistful perhaps, but close to pleased.  
  
"Nor I, Vin."  
  
Anything else they might have said was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Ezra quickly went to answer it, the soles of his dress shoes clicking on the linoleum. Vin peered down into the dark remains of his coffee, smirking at his reflection.  
  
Chris's voice echoed in the hallway. Vin pushed away from the counter, spilling the rest of his mug into the sink before rinsing it out.  
  
"What's this I hear about muckin' through sewers, cowboy?" Chris looked far too amused for the circumstances when Vin turned around.  
  
"I'm sure Ez'll fill you in soon enough."  
  
They shared a look, one of their nonverbal communication things the guys were always going on about. It wasn't telepathy or whatever; it was just knowing your best friend inside out. And whatever Chris saw made him arch an eyebrow at Vin, but the sharpshooter shrugged in return.  
  
One day, he might be able talk about this. Maybe.  
  
"Well, gentlemen?" Ezra brought his mug over to the sink, brushing past Vin casually. "Shall we go berate the damned imbeciles now?"  
  
"Sounds like fun," Chris said with a feral grin.  
  
Vin just shrugged again and followed them out. "Can I get some shoes on first?"  
  
Finis 5/10/04 


End file.
